at can go," returned
the American. "Let us hope that it can go like--like--ah--the wind."

"And carry two," supplemented the princess.

"Wait here," said Barney. "If I get caught, run. Whatever happens
you mustn't be caught."

Princess Emma dropped back close to the hedge and Barney approached
the building, which proved to be a private garage. The doors were
locked, as also were the three windows. Barney passed entirely
around the structure halting at last upon the darkest side. Here was
a window. Barney tried to loosen the catch with the blade of his
pocket knife, but it wouldn't unfasten. His endeavors resulted only
in snapping short the blade of his knife. For a moment he stood
contemplating the baffling window. He dared not break the glass for
fear of arousing the inmates of the house which, though he could not
see it, might be close at hand.

Presently he recalled a scene he had witnessed on State Street in
Chicago several years before--a crowd standing before the window of
a jeweler's shop inspecting a neat little hole that a thief had cut
in the glass with a diamond and through which he had inserted his
hand and brought forth several hundred dollars worth of loot. But
Barney Custer wore no diamond--he would as soon have worn a
celluloid collar. But women wore diamonds. Doubtless the Princess
Emma had one. He ran quickly to her side.

"Have you a diamond ring?" he whispered.

"Gracious!" she exclaimed, "you are progressing rapidly," and
slipped a solitaire from her finger to his hand.

"Thanks," said Barney. "I need the practice; but wait and you'll
see that a diamond may be infinitely more valuable than even the
broker claims," and he was gone again into the shadows of the
garage. Here upon the window pane he scratched a rough deep circle,
close to the catch. A quick blow sent the glass clattering to the
floor within. For a minute Barney stood listening for any sign that
the noise had attracted attention, but hearing nothing he ran his
hand through the hole that he had made and unlatched the frame. A
moment later he had crawled within.

Before him, in the darkness, stood a roadster. He ran his hand over
the pedals and levers, breathing a sigh of relief as his touch
revealed the familiar control of a standard make. Then he went to
the double doors. They opened easily and silently.

Once outside he hastened to the side of the waiting girl.

"It's a machine," he whispered. "We must both be in it wh